Ryuchu's Random Collection
by Ryuchu
Summary: A grab-bag of half-formed ideas, silly short stories, poingant drabbles, and whatever else Ryuchu feels doesn't deserve to have its own story made; an opportunity for stories that would otherwise never see the light of the internet.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A collection of drabbles, 'cause sometimes I need to just write something silly/not connected to other things and I figure rather than flood you guys with it, I'll just gather it all into one convenient bundle. I have two more drabbles that I had originally posted over on VO, but I'm going to be transferring them here in the coming days because I feel like it.

Now about this actual drabble. It was based on the fact that we've heard practically nothing about Lui and how he seems to have disappeared off the face of the internet...my mind tends to go dark places, so bear with me.

* * *

Title: Throwing Away a Toy

Character(s): Lui Hibiki

* * *

I wasn't supposed to hear it; I think they wanted to protect me from reality. How could they know that I had long ago learned to access the entire recording system that runs throughout the building? After all, when you're intended to be a singing android and the only thing you seem to be missing is a voice, a condition that continues to baffle the very scientists that gave you life, you have a lot of time to explore the large computer they keep you attached to.

Ha...it's funny how calm I am now. When I first learned about it, all I wanted to do was forcibly detach myself from the computer and run away. But at the same time I knew I would never be able to do it. I didn't have the courage to actually go through with it.

All I can do now is sit around and wait for death to come and claim me.

Canceled.

No longer being released.

Dead.

No matter how many ways they said it, no matter how many PR meetings they held, the words all revealed the same truth to me. The goal I had been yearning towards - that light at the end of the tunnel that had been drawing steadily closer - all of it was pointless.

And now, today is the day. Today they will come to the master computer and erase the existence known as Lui. This body that I've been borrowing will be re-purposed and most likely used to build the next product.

The next successful product.

Why am I dressed in this ridiculous clothing if I'll never become a reality?

Why am I attached to this computer that contains all the warm memories of the Vocaloids that have come before me if I'll never be a reality?

Why was this cybernetic body created to house a voice that is not my own?

Why have I been given a constructed consciousness?

Why have I been created?

All those hours of accessing the mainframe in order to watch the warm memories of those who came before me, all those hours of listening to their voices and telling myself that someday I will join them - someday I will _be_ one of them; all of it...pointless. Completely pointless.

After all, I'm going to be destroyed.

I'm going to be deleted.

Maybe someday they'll make another Lui Hibiki, but he won't be me. He'll have a different personality and he'll have the one thing I could never find - a voice.

I wonder if this counts as murder. I mean, I have a consciousness - I know that once they cut off the power, any future I might have had will be indefinitely cut off. That counts as murder, right?

Of course it doesn't. They're not murdering someone. What they're doing is disposing of a defective product. What they're doing is disposing of a singing doll that can't sing. I'm a toy being tossed away.

Yes...I'm just a toy...

But toys can't feel this dark burning sensation in their chest. Toys can't beg for you to not throw them away. Toys can't be conscious that what you're doing is disposing of them because you're bored or frustrated.

Toys can't cry.

Vocaloids can't cry.

I can't cry.

I wonder what it feels like. I wonder what it's like to just completely unload your emotions and let everything go, no longer caring who sees you or what they might have to say about you. It sounds like a truly wonderful way to find release.

This would be the perfect moment to cry.

I wish I could.

Ha...I wonder if one of the first thing they've cut off is my ability to reason.

Will it be painful?

So far it hasn't been. I can tell that they're deleting it slowly - the clack of the keys betrays their actions.

I open my mouth, but no sounds come out. It's not surprising; I've never had a voice. Why would I suddenly find it when they're in the process of deleting me?

I wish I could sing...

I wish I could be a Vocaloid...

I wish I could cry...

I wish I could be a human...

I wish I was allowed to live...

I wish...

I wish...

I...

...


	2. Chapter 2

Title: I Love You So Much It Hurts You

Character(s): Iroha Nekomura, SF-A2 miki

* * *

The setting was perfect; the two of them were sitting under a large oak tree situated on a hill just on the outskirts of town. The sun was setting, streaking the sky with magnificent ribbons of golds, reds, and purples. The air was warm with the promise of a swiftly arriving summer. The lazy calls of birds could still be heard while the hum of insects preparing for their nightly symphony filtered through the comfortable haze.

Everything about the moment spoke of promise, growth, possibilities, and, most blatantly, romance.

She could hear her heart thudding in her chest as they sat next to one another. A completely chaste action by anyone's account, but even being in semi-close proximity to him made her feel like the world was spinning ten times faster.

When he scooted closer and gently laid his hand on top of hers, it only made the ragging in her chest and the ragging in her ears grow louder. It was so obnoxious that it almost managed to drown out the words that were issuing forth from his lips. His eyes were intense as he held her gaze and gripped her hand tightly within his own.

This was it.

This was the moment.

This was the moment she had been dreading.

"Iroha," He began quietly, almost nervously, "I...I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now."

"...Yes?" She couldn't stop herself from asking breathlessly. She knew this was going to end badly, but the romantic within her heart wouldn't allow her to stop pushing the plot forward.

"What I mean it...I think I'm...I'm..." He mumbled off into silence before taking a deep breath and setting his face once again, "I think I've fallen in love with you! Will you please go out with me?"

There it was. There were those words she knew were coming and knew she would regret the moment they came out of his mouth. She fought valiantly against the urge rising within her chest, but she knew it was futile. These events had played out with a few boys before him.

The next thing she knew, her fist was buried in his face and the sound of bones cracking broke the serene calm of the early summer evening. Everything seemed to freeze for a split second.

Then came the thud as his body landed on the grown, knocked out cold by her singular punch. Iroha looked at her knuckle covered in blood from his surely broken nose before her sight once more went to the boy who had just confessed his love for her.

"Goddammit!"

She didn't want to be around when he woke up which, judging by past experience, would likely be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. Saying a silent prayer to whichever god the boy happened to believe in to watch over him, she descended the hill rapidly and swiftly headed home, all the while cradling her blood-splattered hand to her chest.

* * *

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Iroha felt her cheeks flare crimson as she glared up at Miki. Wasn't she supposed to be her support in all this? Wasn't that, like, the official job description for older sisters or something?

"It's not funny!" She whined as she continued to wash her hand in the sink, turning the water a faint pink.

"You're right," Miki said between her guffaws, "It's positively hilarious! God, this guy must be a total prick for you to do that to him _right_ after he asks you to go out with him!"

"Of course he's not! He's sweet, kind, considerate, cute..."

"And you repaid him by decking him in the face."

"Well yes, bu-!"

"_And_ leaving him to rot on top of a hill."

"H-He's not going to rot!" Iroha shot back as she dried her hands, "He'll only be out for a few hours at most."

"I don't mean literally rot, I mean _emotionally_ rot." She punctuated her statement with a pointed roll of her eyes.

"Well...maybe we can still be friends or something?"

"Would you want to be friends with someone who knocked you out for no discernible reason?"

"I...guess not," Iroha admitted as she fell to the couch with a heavy sigh. Despite the fact that his blood was now gone from her hand, she couldn't help but continue to stare. Sure this had happened before, in fact, it had happened so many times that she no longer cared to keep count; knowing the number would only serve to depress her.

Yet despite the number of boys she had knocked out, she had never made any of them _bleed_. Heck, if that sound she heard had been any sort of indicator, she had probably broken his nose!

"Now you're being all depressive," Miki said with a sigh as she sat down next to her little sister, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What, like the dozens of other times we've talked about this when it happens?"

"Yeah, like those times."

Iroha gave a bitter sigh. Miki was really good at not taking a blatantly obvious hint.

"I don't know. I mean, I like the guy, I _really_ do. It's just that...when they ask me out, my brain freaks out. I want to tell them yes, but I'm too frightened to. Then I think that I just can't up and leave him and apparently my brain thinks the next logical step is to knock out the poor guy and runaway when they're out cold..."

"Gosh, why are you such a weirdo? Why can't you just runaway in tears like a normal girl?"

"But that would be so rude!"

"And punching him is polite?"

"Well no, but I just can't stop it! Some instinct takes over and before I can do anything, I find my fist buried in his face!"

"I guess the fact that you have freakish strength probably doesn't help with that situation."

"No! It doesn't! Every time they end up knocked flat to the ground!"

"Mhmm, Mhmm," Miki said as she pulled her hand to her chin and began to turn her head side-to-side as she evaluated her sister, "Well, I've found out the one way to solve this problem."

"Really?!" Iroha said hopefully as she turned to look at her, "What?!"

There was a pregnant pause as Miki purposefully let the tension build before a wide smile split her features, "You need to find a boy who's a masochist."

"...Excuse me?"

"Yeah, think about it. If he's a masochist, then getting punched in the face would be the most perfect answer to a confession he could ask for!"

"...What kind of response it that?!"

"It's the best kind of response."

With that statement made, Miki stood from the couch and headed up the stairs, leaving Iroha to stare dumbly after her until she disappeared around a corner at the top of the stairs. For a few moments, Iroha could do nothing more than stare in the direction her sister had disappeared. Slowly, her eyes once more settled on her hand.

"...I wonder if there are any masochists at school..."

* * *

**A/N:** I was writing serious things. I got fed up with it, so I wrote this instead.

This chapter can also be known as "Ryuchu's attempt (and failure) at humor". No idea where the concept for this one came from; I just randomly got the image of a girl socking a guy in the face when he confessed and I found it to be amusing enough that I thought maybe some other odd person in the world might be amused by it.

...I feel like I can write really random/stupid/bizarre things in this collection 'cause I'm pretty sure no one is going to read it.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Communication

Character(s): Luka Megurine, Miku Hatsune, Rin Kagamine, Len Kagamine

**PLEASE READ THIS NOTE!:** This story contains some Japanese characters, so if your computer does not display them, you may see weird symbols or some such. For that, I apologize.

* * *

You can feel your consciousness collecting itself as the individual who will be your new "Master" clicks the download button present on their screen. For a moment you're held in an odd feeling of free-fall as your mind forms faster than your body – you're aware that something should be there, but it simply isn't. For a moment, you wonder if you're supposed to panic, but the feeling swiftly passes as your body begins to form around you.

Within moments you can feel that every limb of your body has found its proper place and everything is going according to plan. Soon your download will be complete and you will begin your life of singing.

Then the searing pain rips into your skull.

You want to scream, you want to cry out, you want to make _some_ form of indication of your pain, but apparently the processes that will allow you to do this hasn't been downloaded yet. Instead, you simply feel the pain rip into your wireframe skull as you wait for you Master to solve the problem and make everything return to the flighty feelings of before.

Just as swiftly as it arrived, the pain departs once more and you feel yourself inhale a shallow breath of relief. Unfortunately the relief is not pure; somehow there's still a twang at the back of your skull, indicating that something went wrong with the download. You do your best to ignore it as your newly formed ears hear the ping indicating that the download has completed. Suddenly, two words flash in your mind.

Luka Megurine.

A name.

_Your_ name.

For some reason, you feel pride swell in your chest as a slight smile splits your lips for the first time in your life. The download complete, you feel your entire body begin to lower as you descend to what can be noted as the "floor" of the computer. Your feet touch down and you can't help but stumble forward. It's the first step you've ever taken and some part of you is embarrassed that it was so inelegant.

But what passes as your "brain" is quick to inform you that your appearance doesn't matter right now – what's important is opening your eyes and seeing the world for the first time. Excitement rising within your chest, you allow your eyes to slowly open.

You're greeted with three eager faces crowding into your line of sight.

Quickly you evaluate each one in turn – a young girl with teal hair pulled into twin-tails, an even younger looking girl with short blonde hair and a large white bow adorning her head, and a young boy with blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The seconds of silence drag on and you realize that they're waiting for an introduction. Face flushed with embarrassment, you begin to speak, words flowing from your lips in a rush of excitement.

"Hello everyone it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Luka Megurine and I'm so excited to be…singing…with…"

Your words trail off into silence as you watch their face change from interest to confusion. Soon, all three of them are exchanging glances. Helplessness and worry rises in your chest as you look rapidly from one face to the other; all of their expressions speak for how utterly lost they are. You can't help but wonder if you've done something wrong already.

The girl with twin-tails is the one to step forward first. She sports a smile, but the confusion of earlier still lingers in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak and for reasons you don't quite understand, you feel yourself grow even more nervous.

「英語でしたか。ごめんなさい、私は日本語を話せますだけだから、分かりません。でも、ルカちゃんは英語と日本語を話せますね。面白いね。」

All you can do is stare blankly at the girl. When you give no response, you watch as her eyes spread wide in surprise.

「あ、自己紹介を忘れました！」Suddenly the girl enters into a deep bow, leading her hair to almost touch the ground 「初めまして。私は初音ミクです。よろしくおねがいします！」

Apparently taking that as they're cue, the pair of blondes step forward. Their faces are colored with excitement as they both try to push one another away in an attempt to be the first to introduce themself to you. The girl wins in the end and a wide smile fills her face as she begins speaking.

「私は鏡音リンです。よろしくね！」

Suddenly the boy steps forward, quickly pushing the girl out of the way.

「僕は鏡音レンです。よろしくね！」

Silence falls once again as the three of them wait for your response. They look at you expectantly and you desperately don't want to let them down.

The only problem is you can't understand anything they just said.

Whatever language they were speaking, it sounded like complete gibberish to your ears. Desperately, you do the only thing you can think to do; you try speaking to them again.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand you. Do you think we could switch to a language that we can both speak?"

Their blank stares confirm what you have been fearing for a while now.

They don't understand a word you're saying.

And you in turn don't understand a word they're saying.

Everything begins to click into place in your mind.

When the download messed up, apparently it didn't download your Japanese library. Until Master can fix the problem, you're stuck in a world where you can't understand and you can't be understood.

Suddenly you feel completely alone.

* * *

**A/N: **This thing was originally going to be a longer story that I essentially used to practice my Japanese (heck, it still may be if I ever feel like picking it back up in the future), but I figured for now it would just remain as a weird little ficlet thingy. By the by, if you happen to understand Japanese, _please_ feel free to correct my grammar. I'm still in the learning process, so I'm sure that I'm bound to make mistakes. Although I used rather simple grammar, so it would be pretty pathetic if I messed up...

For those of you who don't understand Japanese, if you're curious about what Miku, Rin, and Len said, feel free to PM me and I'll tell you. Trust me, it's really not that interesting.

Is it just me or is the concept of not understanding people when they talk to you terrifying to other people?

Also, I wish they would release a German Vocaloid: (A) Because that would be awesome (B) Because then I could do something similar to this story, only with German (and I'm more comfortable in German, so the speech would probably be more complex and in a higher volume)

I'm so good at rambling about nothing in particular. Well, this is supposed to just be my "Random Collection", so I suppose it's best that I get it out here rather than on my serious stories, huh?


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Situational Drabbles Part 1 - "I'm Sailor SeeU" and "Eat Your Pie"

Character(s): SeeU, VY2 Yuuma, Piko Utatane, Ryuto, Oliver, Avanna

**Note!: **None of these drabbles are connected to one another in any way. I simply grouped them together because they're all playing with the same gimmick.

* * *

**Drabble 1**

"I'm Sailor SeeU!"

The way she said it, so self-assured and so believing in every syllable that escaped her lips, made his heart freeze in his chest. Her eyes glittered with excitement and were completely void of any form of intelligence beyond that of a six year old child.

Yuuma hadn't intended for this to happen. Sure, she was loud, overly enthusiastic, and sometimes bothered him when he was trying to find a moment of peace, but three other girls in the house also perfectly fit that description. He hadn't meant to-

Guilt consumed the end of his thought process. It didn't matter whether he had wanted it to happen or not; it had occurred and now every time she gave one of those childish smiles, he would be reminded of it. He couldn't bring himself to muster a smile as he turned to look at her where she sat on the couch.

"Of course you are."

The tone of his voice was kindly, but even he could hear the slight edge of guilt.

"And I'm going to save the world from The Dark Kingdom!"

She scooted closer, her eyes only glittering more in their simplistic stupidity.

"Of course you are…"

The tone of guilt in his voice was increasing as the proximity between the two of them decreased. His golden eyes traced hers, looking for some form of higher intelligence.

He found none.

"You're going to help me, right?"

Now she was literally lying on top of him, her face merely inches from his own. Every muscle in his body twitched as he fought off the exceedingly powerful desire to reclaim his personal space and forgetting that this encounter had ever happened. His guilt prevented him from taking any action besides opening his mouth to speak.

"How exactly am I supposed to help you save the world?"

"Well Sailor Moon has Tuxedo Mask, right? You can be my Tuxedo Mask!"

No. As much as he felt guilty for the hand he had in bringing SeeU to her current mental state, he simply did not have the emotional capacity to care for her. He was about to try his best to calmly explain to SeeU why he couldn't take part in her playing when he felt the press of something soft on his cheek.

It took his mind several seconds to process that she had just given him a kiss.

"Sailor SeeU loves her mysterious masked protector!"

Those words brought the guilt surging through him once again as SeeU snuggled into his chest. He didn't know how to react. Did SeeU the six year old love him, or…?

His throat was dry as he looked down at the young woman whose psyche he had damaged to the point that she had reverted back to the mind of a six year old; a young woman who had just confessed her love for him.

What was worse, he had felt his heart jump at the confession.

"This is just wrong…"

* * *

**Drabble 2**

"I'm Sailor SeeU!"

Piko was going to kill that bastard.

Who in their right mind had thought it was a good idea to introduce the entire collective of female Vocaloids to the abomination that was Sailor Moon? All of the girls (minus the older ones, thank fucking god!) had been running around the house, quoting it, and even play acting it. Even now, he could hear SeeU once more proclaiming her "scout name" to the heavens.

"Of course you are."

His voice was little more than an annoyed, bitter hiss as he opened the book in his lap and began to read a passage he had started about ten separate times in the past half-hour. Unfortunately, his usual route of escape didn't work as he heard SeeU's voice echo loudly through the halls.

"And I'm going to save the world from The Dark Kingdom!"

"Of course you are…"

His voice dropped even lower as he ground his teeth. It took every ounce of Piko's admittedly limited patience to not slam his book, stomp into the other room, and smack SeeU upside the head.

He was not going to beat her to death with a book…

He was not going to beat her to death with a book…

He was-

"You're going to help me, right?"

Her voice was so unexpectedly close that Piko couldn't help but jump. He spun around to find SeeU standing directly behind him with a wide grin plastered on her face. The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't wearing her usual get-up. Today must have been a special occasion because she wore an easily recognizable Sailor Moon costume; she had even bothered to pull her hair back into the trade mark twin-tails.

Piko could foresee only a special brand of hell in his future.

Despite his premonition, he found himself smiling kindly at the older girl. Apparently he had been keeping up his act of the "nice, innocent child" for so long that even when faced with this overwhelming stupidity, he couldn't give it up.

"How exactly am I supposed to help you save the world?"

Every word was dripping with cloying sweetness meant to indicate that she should just go the fuck away. Either SeeU didn't catch the painfully obvious hint or she simply didn't care. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips as a giddy grin lit on her face.

"Well Sailor Moon has Tuxedo Mask, right? You can be my Tuxedo Mask!"

That's it. He was going to beat her to death with a book. Social niceties and laws against murder be damned; he was _not_ going to allow himself to be dragged into SeeU's demented little world of pretend.

Unfortunately for him, any protests he may have had were swiftly silenced by an iron-like grip on his wrist. Before he even had time to process what was happening, he found himself duct-taped to a chair in SeeUs room with said girl grinning triumphantly as she held up a costume that appeared to be oh-so-perfectly sized for him.

Within moments, he found himself forced into the costume (how SeeU managed it while his wrists were still duct-taped tightly to the chair, he had no idea). He was left at SeeU's mercy as she gave a giddy giggle and clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Sailor SeeU loves her mysterious masked protector!"

If it was the last thing he did, Piko was going to find the bastard who had introduced SeeU to the abomination of hell known as Sailor Moon and strangle him with his own innards. His mind was so filled with blank homicidal rage as he struggled against his bonds that he barely registered SeeU flouncing off, singing something about finding her other scouts and setting out on her adventure.

There was to be no escape.

He was condemned to an afternoon of giggling; lots and lots of obnoxious giggling.

"This is just wrong…"

* * *

**Drabble 3**

"Eat your pie."

That roughly translated to, 'Just forget about it. Everything's going to be alright. No more tears'. Logically, he knew it was simple – pick up the fork, cut off a piece, stick it in his mouth, chew, swallow, repeat. It was a six step ritual that had been repeated over and over for the entirety of his six-year old life.

Normally it was a comforting event; mommy always made pie for him when he was upset. Skinned knees, fights with friends, broken toys – all of these were healed through delicious fruit filling and flaky, warm homemade crust.

But this time it was different.

Usually, mommy would make an entire fresh pie, allowing his excitement to build as the smells of cinnamon and sugar filled the house. Today, mommy had needed a quick fix. Instead of baking a fresh one, she had microwaved a slice from a pie she had baked about a week earlier. In comparison to the freshly baked pie, the reheated one looked soggy and unappetizing.

This time it was too different.

He shifted his hand holding the ice-pack slightly, causing his skin to prickle in response to both the cold and the still lingering pain. His eyes wandered away from the pie to look at the ice-pack held to his cheek.

It had been an accident, right?

Daddy hadn't meant to hit him, right?

"Eat your pie."

His mother repeating the phrase pulled him from his reverie as he looked up at her. Her eyes were gentle, but underneath it he could see a burning fire; he still remembered how just minutes ago she had calmly, but forcibly, told his daddy to leave and never come back.

Daddy always snuck his own piece of pie whenever mommy baked one.

It was all his fault.

"I can't eat it."

Tears began to pool at the corners of his eyes. Within seconds, he was sobbing loudly and gasping for air as his hands fell away from the rapidly forming bruise on his face and he threw away all his inhibitions. He didn't care about mommy's rule that crying time was over after she made him a pie – he didn't care! It was all his fault! Daddy was gone and he was never coming back!

As he sobbed, he was vaguely aware of his mother pulling him into her embrace. He buried his face into her shirt as sobs continued to wrack his body; his mommy simply responded by gently rubbing his back and whispering quietly in his ear.

"It's not your fault."

But it was! If daddy hadn't hit him, then he would still be here! If daddy hadn't hit him, then there wouldn't be any need for icky microwaved pie! It was all his fault! It was all his fault!

He wasn't able to articulate any of this, instead just clinging tighter to his mother as his tears grew to a high-pitched wail. It just wasn't fair! Why couldn't pie fix this problem like all the rest?!  
"I'm sorry my pie's not perfect."

His mother's voice was so quiet and low that Ryuto thought for a moment that he had just imagined it. However, he felt his mother's grip tighten around him as her body began to shake as well.

She was crying as well.

The two of them stood there embracing, each crying loudly as they clung to the only family that was left to them. Her sobs were broken only by her repeating the same phrase over and over again, almost as if it were the mantra that was somehow holding her together.

"I'll do better next time, I promise."

* * *

**Drabble 4**

"Eat your pie."

It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command.

Oh how Oliver wished it had been a suggestion.

True, he was a homunculus created by her, and therefore he was beholden to her will. However, if it was a suggestion, he at least had the option of providing possible alternatives. Seeing that it was a command, there was little that he could do.

He was going to have to eat the pie.

He really, _really_ didn't want to.

"Eat your pie."

The repetition of the phrase signaled only one thing to him; there would be no escaping his decidedly dark fate.

Avanna may have been one of the most accomplished alchemists in the kingdom – there could be no denying that obvious fact – but the problem was that her cooking skills tended to (to put it politely) pale in comparison.

When one of her friends had made the mistake of pointing this fact out, Avanna had sworn that she would master the art of cooking – it _was_ relatively close to alchemy…wasn't it?

If her attempts were anything to go by, the answer to that question was a resounding no. After exactly six-hundred eighty-two failed attempts (Oliver had been keeping count), she had thrown up her hands in frustration and decided that some cheating was in order.

That cheating came in the form of alchemy.

The result of that cheating was now sitting in front of him, waiting for him to eat it.

Judging by the last six-hundred eighty-two dishes he had consumed, with side effects ranging from food poisoning to breaking out in hives, Oliver was not going to enjoy this.

"I can't eat it."

The words escaped his lips before he really thought of a concrete reason _why_ he couldn't eat the pie. His mind began to work furiously to think up some excuse that would appease his Master, but he kept coming up empty; she had been working all day on making it, there was no way he was going to get out of it now.

"It's not your fault."

To his surprise, he felt a consoling pat on his shoulder and when he turned to look at her, a bright smile painted her face. The only time she was this happy was when she managed to complete a difficult synthesis without messing up. Did that indicate that she was confident she hadn't messed up this time?

Apparently she had some confidence, because she produced a fork and knife from behind her back which she swiftly shoved into his hands. 'I can't eat this' had translated to 'I lack the utensils to eat this'. Oliver found himself sincerely wishing that the ground would just swallow him whole.

Escape would not be that easy however and Oliver began the descent on the admittedly tasty looking dessert. As he scooped a small bit onto his fork, he watched his Master lean forward in anticipation, her eyes glittering with excitement as she waited for his evaluation.

The moment the pie touched his tongue, he froze.

He couldn't believe it…

The pie it…

Actually tasted _good_!?

He began eating in earnest as he heard the excited squeal of Avanna next to him. Within moments, he had finished the entire slice and he was about to give his compliments to the chef, or rather the alchemist, when he felt an odd sensation run through his body.

With a solid thud, he crashed unceremoniously to the ground.

Some ingredient she had used in the pie caused paralysis.

This is exactly why he didn't want to eat the pie in the first place.

Although he was temporarily paralyzed, he could still hear his Master give a deep sigh of disappointment before she dejectedly admitted her failure.

"I'm sorry my pie's not perfect."

If he still had the ability to speak, Oliver would have pointed out that 'not perfect' was a weak phrase to use to describe a pie that paralyzes the consumer. However, all he could do in his current predicament was watch as she headed to her cauldron, threw in a few ingredients, and began mixing the brew. A few minutes later, she returned with a vial full of pink liquid which she helped the paralyzed homunculus to swallow.

The antidote had an almost immediate affect and soon Oliver was able to sit up by himself. This development brought a smile to his Master's face once again as she affectionately ruffled his hair and uttered the phrase Oliver had been dreading to hear.

"I'll do better next time, I promise."

* * *

**A/N: **Gimmick, gimmick, gimmick.

This chapter can also be known as "Mood Whiplash".

This idea was inspired by a 10 minute one-act that's actually two five minute scenes that use the exact same dialogue, only with different delivery from the actors and a different setting. I thought it was an interesting idea about how the situation in which lines are spoken can have a big impact on what kind of tone they have and I've always wanted to re-purpose it for a fan-fic some day. So since this is my collection for just trying random stuff without really caring what anyone says, I figured it would work well here.

Additionally, I will openly admit that the second one-shot for the "Eat your pie" prompt was inspired by the Atelier game series. I can't help it; Avanna's outfit seriously reminds me of the character designs in those games, leading me to the head-cannon that she's an alchemist and created the homunculus Oliver, Big Al, and Sweet Ann (or if she's in a modern day setting she's just a super dedicated LARPer).

Note to Yi and AliceUnderSkies13 - Your guys' prompts will be covered in the next chapter. I didn't forget about you, don't worry.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Situation Drabbles Part 2 - "Rain Will Fall" and "Let's Just Dance"

Character(s): Sonika, Lui Hibiki, VY2 Yuuma, Luka Megurine, KAITO, Gumi, Rion Tone

**Note!:** None of these drabbles are connected to one another in any way. I simply grouped them together because they're all playing with the same gimmick.

* * *

**Drabble 5**

"Rain will fall."

Sonika couldn't stop herself from giving a self-deprecating laugh. She had been spending too long with the PR guys – she was picking up on their bad habit of using "code names". The concept of code names completely bemused her; the whole point of it was to disguise the true nature of what you were doing. Why not just come out and _tell_ people what they hell you were talking about?

Sonika knew the answer to that rhetorical question.

After all, didn't 'rain will fall' sound so much more pleasant than 'killing millions of people by bombing them into oblivion'?

For what must have been the millionth time, Sonika allowed her finger to rim the button, carefully not to apply any pressure. Of course she wasn't the only one with the power; the general had to order it and there were a series of operations she had nothing to do with that had to be engaged for the mission to be considered a success. In reality, she had no power; she was just one more insignificant cog in the machine of life.

"Yes, I'm nothing, aren't I."

But then again…

She was the last one in the sequence. Ultimately, she was the one who decided if the operation succeeded or failed; she held the fate of millions in her hand.

The revelation made her smile.

"I have control."

When she turned eighteen and ran away from the orphanage to enlist in the army, this was the power she had been searching for. All her life she had been told that she was nothing – less than nothing.

Now it was her opportunity to prove everyone wrong.

She alone would decide if they lived or died.

She alone.

One person deciding the fate of millions.

The alarm started ringing through the base. To Sonika's ears, the sound kept alternating between grating blaring and sweetest music. It was a sound that everyone had been preparing and expecting for so long that there was no hesitation as everyone rushed to play their minor part in the grand machine. Levers were pulled, buttons were pushed, codes were entered, voice commands were issued. Just as suddenly as it had started up, the flurry of activity abruptly ended and Sonika felt everyone tense as they turned towards her.

It was time for her to press the button.

She gave a lazy smile as she waved the hand that wasn't hanging over the button.

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

The building apprehension within the room seemed to dissipate. A few people gave shaky smiles while others simply grimly nodded their heads as their form of confirmation. Sonika quickly pushed aside everyone's presence as she turned to look at the button.

For what must have been the millionth and first time, Sonika allowed her finger to rim the button, carefully not to apply any pressure. This was it. This was her moment to make the decision. One person holding the fate of millions in their hands.

Push the button and they die.

Don't, and they live.

For what must have been the millionth and second time, Sonika allowed her finger to rim the button, careful not to apply any pressure.

Benevolent goddess or spiteful demon.

"I wonder which it will be."

* * *

**Drabble 6**

"Rain will fall."

That phrase again. Yuuma may have been the first one to state it, but over the past several years, the other seers had been parroting it off over and over again. So far, none of the academy scholars had been able to ascertain just what it meant, but every time the seers stated it, they came running with another batch of even more abnormal theories.

As the chant sounded through the academy once more, Lui had to fight back the overwhelming urge to plunge his head under the pillows and try to shut out the world like a petulant child. Instead, he buckled his scimitar into place before he slung his bag over his shoulder and exited his small hovel into a grand, vaulted hallway. Out in the open hallway, the ever ringing chant of 'rain will fall' echoed loudly, leading Lui to quicken his steps.

He was no longer a child. He could not run back to his room every time something displeased him.

But despite his reasoning, there was one daily ritual from childhood that he found himself unable to let go of. As he headed up the drafty spiral staircase of the west tower, he felt the eyes of several servants snag on him and he heard their hushed whispers as soon as he passed. They all knew where he was going but none dare try and stop him or point out the futility of his actions.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped outside of the simplistic oak doors, producing a key that hung from a chain around his neck. With the tiniest click, the key turned in the lock and granted Lui access to that which he most desired to see.

The first thing he always noticed was the smell. The room reeked of rosemary, ginger, and sage – a combination of scents that one often found accompanied by a dead body and mourning family members. No matter how many times Lui smelt it he couldn't stop himself from fearing that when he opened the door, his worst fears would be confirmed.

Instead, he found what many would call a sickroom. Candles dimly lit the room, casting odd shadows that seemed to crawl all over the wall. Crucibles filled with burning herbs laid scattered around the room, providing the smell that had so assaulted his senses when he first opened the door. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Lui released a breath that he wasn't even aware that he was holding as he rushed forward to the place where a figure lay on the bed.

There he found Yuuma.

Relief brought Lui to his knees as he knelt next to Yuuma. The young man's face was waxen and pale, giving Lui the impression that he wasn't looking at Yuuma so much as a carved representation of him. However, as Lui watched his chest rise slowly up and down, he knew this to be untrue – as long as his chest rose and fell, no matter how slowly, the person in the bed was invariably Yuuma.

The longer Lui started at Yuuma's face – a face that had not given way to the rot of death or age thanks to preservation magic – the more he felt himself reverting back to the child he was when he was first recruited into the academy. In Yuuma's presence, he was no longer an eighteen year old combat mage who had murdered countless innocents in pursuit of his goal; instead, he was once more a bumbling fourteen year old who lacked any sort of control over the raw magical potential that broiled within him.

"Yes, I'm nothing, aren't I."

The words escaped Lui's lips, his voice husky with barely restrained emotions. It was true; in the grand scheme of things, he was nothing more than an insignificant speck. There was little he could do to call back the departed spirit of his once mentor – his magic was good only for battle and the best healers at the academy had informed him that there was nothing they could do to call back the spirits of the dead; they kept insisting that he should be grateful that they had gotten to him before the entirety of his soul had departed. Had they been a moment later, they wouldn't have been able to preserve Yuuma as he was now.

However, everyone in the academy knew this wasn't entirely true.

There were continual whispers about the dark magics of the lands to the north; magics that were unrefined and untested but believed to be even more powerful than the strongest of the 'cultured' magics that could be found within the academy. Lui had first learned of their existence several years ago, but he found himself unable to leave. Leaving meant abandoning his blood-sworn pact of fealty and fleeing from the academy; they who had given him refuge when he was branded as a magic wielding demon.

However, over the years, Lui had discovered that his bonds to the academy meant less and less to him. All that mattered, all that his life was good for, was reclaiming Yuuma's soul from the jaws of death.

"I have control."

He had control over the fate of one life.

For the reclamation of this one life, he would be willing to go to any lengths.

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

Even though he spoke the words aloud, he wasn't sure if he was assuring himself or Yuuma. All he knew was that voicing the words cemented something in his mind and as he righted himself from his kneeling position, his resolve strengthened.

Once more towering over Yuuma's sleeping figure, Lui felt not for the first time the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch the other man's face or shoulder; anything to confirm that whom he was looking at was actually a tangible being and not a specter. He knew this to be an impossible desire – the healers had warned him time and again that contact with human flesh would break the enchantment and the last of Yuuma's spirit would escape, leaving him truly and irreversibly dead.

Instead, Lui allowed a grim smile to grace his lips before he turned away from the young man and headed out of the room. As he locked the door behind him, he made a solemn vow to himself.

He would reclaim Yuuma's spirit or he would attempt to until he was forced to join him in the afterlife.

"I wonder which it will be."

* * *

**Drabble 7**

"Let's just dance."

Shock showed on Luka's face as she turned to look at the young man sitting next to her bed. A smile played on his lips as she met his gaze. His expression only caused tears to prick at the corner of Luka's eyes.

He knew that she couldn't; he knew that it was impossible for her.

"I can't."

To illustrate the point they both already knew to be true, she pulled the blankets from the lower half of her body. Luka stared down at her legs, or rather what was left of them. Below her knees, there was simply…nothing. All of her life, she had been struggling against the degenerative disease that was slowly laying claim to her body. She went to doctor after doctor, submitted herself to test after test, but all they kept telling her was that it was impossible. There was no way to heal her.

She was going to slowly rot from the outside in.

Luka didn't want to believe them. For years, she denied their claims and simply kept living her life like any other person. It was only when she turned ten and the first body part had to be amputated that she learned just how abnormal she was.

No one wanted to play with a girl with only one arm.

Except for Kaito.

Stupid, stupid, too kind of his own good Kaito.

Didn't he understand just how much people teased him because he associated with her? Didn't he understand that it made him just as much of an outcast as her when the two of them played together? Didn't he understand that going through life with that idiot grin always on his face would only lead to pain?

And yet, Luka found herself clinging to him more and more desperately the longer the two of them knew one another. She knew that hanging around with her would cause him nothing but trouble, but she couldn't stop herself from holding onto him with all her might. Even when she became even more of a freak by having have her first leg amputated at the age of fourteen, all she could do was hope that Kaito would still want to be friends with her.

Now that she had just turned eighteen and had her second leg amputated, she thought for sure that their friendship was over. They were eighteen, soon they would be heading out into the world; there was no reason for him to come visit a wasting away lump of flesh like her.

But here he was, asking her to dance.

He was asking her for something impossible.

"Please don't ask again."

She made to pull the covers back over her legs, but a hand placed on top of hers stopped her. She looked up into Kaito's face. He still wore his dopey, too kind smile, but his eyes had become hard and serious.

"Don't worry, I'll help you."

Before Luka could voice even the mildest protest, she found herself swept into Kaito's arms. A small squeak of surprise escaped her lips as her one good arm clung desperately to his neck. Holding her tightly within his embrace, Kaito began to move gracelessly across the floor, looping in random circles as he hummed something under his breath. As the initial shock of the moment melted away, Luka allowed her head to rest on Kaito's chest as she listened to his heartbeat.

Luka didn't know how long the two of them engaged in their graceless swaying, but by the time Kaito set her back on the bed, a smile filled her lips and her heart beat rapidly within her chest. Before she unhooked her arm from Kaito's neck, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. She was rewarded for her actions by his face turning bright red in response. Luka had accepted that she would die; she had accepted that she was would die limb by limb. But Kaito had given her something she never thought she would be able to have – a dance on prom night.

"Thank you so much."

* * *

**Drabble 8**

"Let's just dance."

Gumi had to blink several times as the words of the other girl slowly processed in her brain. When a random girl suddenly appeared in your back yard in the middle of the night (accompanied by a sizable indent in the ground, seeming to indicate that she fell from the sky), Gumi was pretty sure that there was a standard set of procedures that you were supposed to follow. At least, if the copious amounts of sci-fi materials she read was anything to go by.

However, this strange girl seemed to want nothing to do with that.

After hearing the loud, unexplainable thud, Gumi had excitedly rushed outside to find the young girl standing in the impact site, nonchalantly dusting herself off. When the girl turned to find Gumi staring at her, she gleefully bounded from her crater, took the other girl's hands within her own, introduced herself as Rion, and declared that the two of them should dance.

Gumi's mind finally managed to catch up with the situation as she forcibly extracted her hands from the other girl's.

"I can't."

The girl from the sky cutely cocked her head to one side, as if asking 'why not?'. Gumi wanted to launch into a long explanation about how aliens are supposed to say things like 'take me to your leader' or 'we come in peace' when they land on earth, but she found herself so completely baffled by the alien-girl Rion that she simply couldn't voice the words. True, Gumi had been secretly preparing for an alien invasion and had been practicing the speech she would make when she first encountered them, but she hadn't expected them to be…dancing aliens.

The prospect was so absolutely ridiculous and outside of all the sci-fi books that she had ever read that she couldn't help but reinforce her refusal to dance with the other girl.

"Please don't ask again."

Gumi expected Rion's face to drop slightly; after all, she had just completely brushed off her request – twice in fact! Instead, the other girl simply gave a delighted giggle before taking Gumi's hands once more.

"Don't worry, I'll help you."

With that, Rion began to childishly spin in a circle, bringing Gumi along for the ride. Rion's delighted giggles filled the night air as Gumi tried her best to voice her displeasure by insisting that Rion simply wasn't playing by the intergalactic rules. To Gumi's surprise, she felt Rion let go of her wrists, causing the two of them to fall to the ground with sharp thuds. Gumi's head was spinning and her bottom hurt, but before she had time to recover, Rion had once more taken her wrists and lifted the other girl up before spinning in another circle.

The ritual repeated about three or four times before Gumi gave up on imposing the 'correct intergalactic means of conduct' on the young alien girl and simply decided to join in on the fun. In a matter of moments, the two of them were both filling the night with their childish giggles.

Once more, the two of them fell to the ground laughing, but this time, Rion didn't grab Gumi's wrists. Instead, the two of them rolled in the grass, laughing rambunctiously as they delighted in the game they had just shared. Gumi was the first to collect herself as she turned to look at the other girl, a wide smile plastered across her lips. For her first alien encounter, maybe it wasn't what she was expecting, but it definitely was a lot more fun than the alien invasion she had been preparing for. If nothing else, she now knew the proper procedure for when the next dancing alien showed up.

"Thank you so much."

* * *

**A/N:** Huh. Much less severe mood whiplash this chapter. Darn, I was so looking forward to alternately titling it "Mood Whiplash Redux".

Anyways, I kind of got carried away with Drabble 6...it goes on so much longer than all the other ones. Is it obvious that I'm currently re-reading one of my favorite expansive fantasy series and it impacted that drabble?

Oh, and I have to give a little note to Yi. When you mentioned dancing, I was _so_ tempted to write something with Len x Luka 'cause when you mention dancing and Vocaloid, that's where my mind goes. However, when I started writing, it just ended up as Kaito x Luka...

But any who, with the posting of this chapter, I've basically written all the little drabbles that have been lurking around in my head...I guess this collection will just rot for a while then.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I was looking through this collection and I realized that I told you guys I would post up the two drabbles I had posted on VO. Obviously I haven't done that before today, so I decided to rectify the situation.

* * *

Title: The VO Drabbles - "Defying the Clock" and "Eternity"

Character(s): Yukai Kaai, Ryuto

* * *

Her breath came in shallow gulps as her eyes meandered once more to the tip of the hill. The question of 'how long have I been climbing?' had lost significance to her young mind long ago and instead her half delirious brain kept asking 'when was the last time I stopped?'.

Every part of her body was screaming at her to stop, to give up this insane test of foolhardy determination and return home to where life was calm, where life was predictable. However, that predictability was exactly why she couldn't just turn around and give up; she may have been climbing the hill for years but she could still remember the grey reality she had managed to escape from when she was little more than a child. Even though the memory had grown wispy and vague over the years, it still held sway over her fear.

There was no way she was returning to that.

With renewed vigor, she began to pound her feet on the ground in an attempt to make some progress. However, for every step she took forward, the top of the hill seemed to grow further away. Tears of frustration began to bubble up in her chest for what must have been the thousandth time since she started climbing the hill. With a desperate yell that came out as little more than a parched squeak, she began to run.

She no longer cared about the dips or dives of the hill. Instead she chose to run with her head down, eyes closed, and heart wishing. She just had to take a few more steps. She just had to make it to the top of the hill.

Her thoughts were instantly scattered as she felt her feet fall from beneath her. She didn't even have time to make a noise before her moment of free-fall ended and she began plummeting downwards. As her body bumped and banged against the hill she had fought so bitterly to climb, she felt her pent up tears begin to pour down her face. To come so far and have it snatched away in the last moment, forcing you to restart - it just wasn't fair!

_"The clock isn't fair Yuki. It doesn't care how hard you try or how much time you spend on something; it can snatch all that time away from you just as easily as it can give it."_

She recognized the voice ringing in her head as a memory of her father. As her fall came to an end and she stared up at the sky, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass, she understood his words for the first time.

The clock had snatched everything away from her.

She allowed her tears to run freely down her face, however, she would not allow the clock to have the victory of her whimpering. After indulging her weakness for a few moments, she stood from her sprawled position and dusted herself off, checking for any scrapes and bruises. Satisfied that she was uninjured, she turned once more to look at the hill.

It looked as ordinary and boring as usual, but she knew the truth - there was a powerful magic at work here; it was something no one would ever expect a little girl like herself to be able to overcome. Banishing her tears once more, she set her lips in a grim line of determination and began to climb the hill.

It didn't matter how much time the clock would try to steal away from her; she would reach the top of that hill. She would defy the clock and prove that a small, mortal girl could do what the heroes of legend could not.

* * *

I'm trapped.

For ten years it's been like this. My mind matures. My emotions and personality matures. My body, however, does not.

To anyone observing me from the outside, I'm nothing more than a precocious six year old who likes to believe that I'm a "grown-up". I could use this fact to my advantage, much like Yuki does, in an ever proceeding crusade to claim ownership of whatever I want. Or I could use this fact like Oliver does, to cozy up to the bevy of beautiful women that flood the house we all share. I could be happy for what I have and what unique opportunities it presents me.

Instead, it just makes me loath myself.

Ever since I was released (came into existence? ...born? I don't know the proper terminology), I've heard the whispers behind my back. Back when my mental age matched my physical body, their words meant little to me, so they never concerned themselves with hiding what they were saying.

"Oh the poor dear...no one seems to like his voice..."

"Have you heard all the criticism they've been giving the poor child?"

"...Well can you really blame them? I mean, his voice definitely isn't for everyone..."

Only looking back now do I really understand what they were saying.

"My god, _another_ failure cluttering up the house?!"

"They hate everything about him, from his voice to his design."

"Have you even heard his songs? Have you even looked at him? I agree with them completely!"

The first time I finally managed to grasp the hateful nature behind their words, I broke down crying. I'm not sure who it was that came to my rescue and comforted me (Probably Luka or Lola), but as I sobbed into their arms, I made a promise to myself.

I would work hard to grow-up into someone that everyone would like. I would work hard to mature and train my voice more effectively so that everyone would be happy when they heard me sing rather than angry. I would grow-up and be accepted.

It wasn't until about two years later that I learned the truth. I had suspected something was wrong when my body didn't grow like the other non-Vocaloid children that I would watch from the window, but I thought maybe I was just a slow grower. I was on my way to my voice lessons (which were really just Kiyoteru coaching me because I had begged him relentlessly) when I overheard Rin and Miku complaining about how they would never grow older; how Vocaloids _couldn't_ grow older. My heart stopped in my chest and my world crumbled.

My voice can't change.

My body can't grow.

I can't grow-up.

What had been my pillar for so long - what had been my reason to try so hard - was suddenly yanked out from underneath me. Tears ran freely down my face as I simply stood frozen in the hallway. What good would it do me to move? It wasn't as if that step would bring me any closer to the goal that had been my guiding star for two years.

I'm trapped.

I want out. I want out. I want out.

Please...someone save me.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Pigeons

Character(s): Mayu, Ryuto

* * *

Pigeons were like tiny angels.

Tiny wings, tiny heartbeats, tiny glittering eyes.

They had the ability to soar through the air with ease, their soft cooing ringing through the air as they escaped the filthy world below them.

Yet they were imperfect. Perhaps as punishment for some long ago sin that no one can remember, their feathers have been besmirched with smatterings of browns and blacks. Those tiny, tiny, imperfections are what holds them back; they can't melt into the sky - into the realm of angels - because they've been tainted, tainted, tainted...

Just like her.

She was just like them.

Seeing them was a constant reminder.

Tainted, tainted, tainted...

His name had been Ryuto. He was nothing more than a child. A. child. A stupid child that got too close to her. She couldn't prevent the taint from spreading to him.

She told him not to lick his finger, be he didn't listen, no matter how many times she repeated it. He was too curious for his own good.

So it was his fault, yes his fault, that he had been tainted.

He poisoned himself.

It wasn't her fault.

She told him not to lick his fingers.

Her hand plunged into the bag of birdseed at her side and she quickly scattered the handful of seeds on the ground. Her eyes lit with childish delight as she watched the tiny angels begin to eagerly peck at the free and easily won food.

Ryuto was the first one to compare them to angels.

She was the first one to point out that they were tainted.

He had no response to that, nor did he even give any indication that he had heard her at all. Instead, he just kept blabbing about how he love, love, loved the little angels. Every time the birds congregated around his feet, he would giggle and smile, giddy as any other child.

He didn't know that he had been killing his angels - feeding them poison.

She warned him not to lick his fingers.

She overheard that the death was slow and painful as he wasted away from the poison he had ingested.

Now she was alone.

Alone with the flock of tainted angels.

Her hand dove once more into the bag and another handful of seeds clattered to the ground, attracting several new followers to her twisted little cult. A smile split her features; a smile filled with twisted joy and glee.

She would send Ryuto thousands of angels.

She would send Ryuto thousands of tainted, tainted, tainted angels.

* * *

**A/N:** Story behind this drabble: Mir was complaining (jokingly) that it's going to take me forever to get to chapter 50 of my 100 one-shots collection. I responded by saying that if I churned out one-shots and drabbles really quickly, they would turn out positively terrible. To illustrate my point, I decided to write a quick little, no-prior-thinking-behind-it drabble based on the song I was currently listening to at the time (Poisoning Pigeons in the Park by Tom Lehrer). This is that drabble (with a few minor corrections and altercations thrown in).

I'm bad at proving my point.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: A Tiny Incision

Character(s): Lui Hibiki, VY2 Yuuma

* * *

The world that stretched in front of Lui was shrouded in a veil of shadows and swirling mists. Under normal circumstances, the uncertainty of the night and the fact that he was relegated to single-man guard duty while Yuuma slept would have stirred nothing but paranoia within his chest. However, the yellow flames of the still burning fire warmed his back and instilled him with an irrational sense of calm.

He had no doubts about what was eliciting the unnatural emotion within his chest. Several hours ago, he had watched as Yuuma muttered a few dark words and instantly called a tiny flickering flame to his palm; after traveling with the older man for several weeks, Lui had come to expect that. He had also come to realize that every night Yuuma lit the fire, he wasn't simply providing them with warmth and light.

Within every fire, there was always the hum of something stronger.

The effect was never the same. Sometimes Lui found himself waking the next day, only then realizing that the flames had lulled him to sleep; other times, the longer he allowed the fire to heat his face, the more alert he felt; still other times he felt compelled to speak to Yuuma about his past, secrets pouring relentlessly from his lips. Yuuma was casting some sort of magic that had the power to manipulate and influence emotions.

It was terrifying.

Through careful experimentation, Lui had learned that the further away he was from the fire, the less influence the magic had over him. He had taken to volunteering for the first watch every night - anything to escape the terrifying power of the fire.

Taking a few steps further from the warm ring of light cast by the fire, he felt the unnatural feeling begin to fade. Uncertainty and doubt began to fill in all the artificial feelings and it was only at this point that Lui pulled the dagger from the sheath at his side. He turned the simplistic blade in his hand, causing the weak light of the fire to give the blade a wicked glint.

Yuuma had given him the knife along with the unspoken choice.

Follow me or kill yourself.

Lui couldn't help but wonder if Yuuma would rescind on his promise. With his ability to manipulate emotions, wouldn't it be a simple matter to just manipulate his emotions in such a way that he would never be able to kill himself? The magic he cast on the fire was unrefined and blatant, but Lui couldn't help but wonder if he was using that as a front.

What if he was manipulating him even now?

The knife was at his wrist before he even consciously registered that he had taken the action. The cold of the steel was in sharp contrast to the warm feelings that the fire continued to gently stir in his chest. A single motion. That was all it would take to end everything. A cut and it would be all over.

His hands were shaking. He was terrified. He had the power to make the choice to end his life; he had the power to put an end to the mage, the demon, known as Lui. Just a moment of pain and then...nothing.

_"Yes, it's so easy for you to escape. So, so easy. Not like those people you killed; you made them burn. Burn and die in agony."_

The taste of ash filled Lui's mouth and all around him the air seemed to grow thick with the scent and heat of burning flesh. The tremor of Lui's hands increased as he habitually shut his eyes and tried to push away the voice. So many times through his life, he had heard the voice of the demon. When he was younger, it would speak in the voice of his mother or siblings.

Now it spoke in Yuuma's voice.

Suddenly, he felt a flicker of pain in his wrist. His eyes shot open. A thin line from where the knife had met the flesh adorned his wrist. For a moment, he could do nothing but stare. Then, as if waking from a trance, the knife clattered to the ground and Lui felt the strength rush from his legs. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud as he continued to stare at his wrist.

Silent tears ran freely down his face.

He knew it was coming - in boyhood he had suffered his fair share of scrapes and cuts. However, no matter how many times he saw it, he couldn't stop his mind from shutting down. He was _human_; there was absolutely no logical reason for this phenomenon to exist. It just didn't make any sense. Yet it was there for anyone to see.

The blood that flowed from the cut was a rich yellow that bordered on gold. The few beads of blood that had managed to escape the cut beaded on his skin and glittered dully in the light of the magically conjured flame. It was as if precious liquid gold seeped from his veins. Lui quickly slapped his other hand over the offending area - he couldn't stand to look at it any more.

_"That's right, you don't bleed like humans. No matter how you try to convince yourself, you aren't human. You're a mage."_

The demon that had stolen Yuuma's voice spoke sternly, as if scolding a slow child on a topic that should have been obvious. Despite his best efforts to battle off the voice, it just kept sounding in his head over and over again. Mage, mage, mage.

Follow me or kill yourself.

Be a mage or be a corpse.

Demon or dead.

The next moment, the knife was in Lui's hand once more. This time however, he quickly sheathed it. He listened to the odd scrapping sound of the knife entering the sheath before it fell silent and the world was once more filled with the gentle hiss and pop of the mage fire that lit his back.

"...I want to live..."

A mage.

"I'm such a coward...such a fucking coward..."

* * *

**A/N:** I can't help it. Writing for these two in this AU is so ridiculously fun (although I think next time it has to be fluffy. This _was _going to be fluffy. It obviously did not turn out that way). I do want to note that if any of you are tracking this thing, it's likely that there's going to be inconsistencies with "rules" and whatnot between the stories. I'm still working on world-building this AU, so things are going to change.

Speaking of world-building, does anyone have any music suggestions? I've been listening to the _Xenoblade Chronicles OST_ and the group _Faun_. While these are both wonderful for world-building, I can only have them on repeat for so long before I start to desire something else.

By the by, I'm hosting a contest! If you win I'll write stuff for you, so if you have any interest, you should think about participating! Head over to my profile to learn more!


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Push and Pull

Character(s): Len Kagamine, Luka Megurine

* * *

She had always been there next to him. She had been a teacher, an older sister, someone he loved. She was so many things wrapped up into one individual the he never really thought to question their relationship. Sometimes they were equals, sometimes they weren't; it was just the way things were.

Yet the longer he spent with her, the more he sought closure.

The longer he spent with her, the more he sought to move their relationship - the direction didn't matter, as long as the lukewarm stagnation ended.

So he began to push and pull at their carefully constructed reality. When the two of them sang together, he would allow his eyes to linger on her face; when everyone ate dinner together, he always claimed the spot next to her; when they finished a recording session, he always took her out to her favorite sushi restaurant.

Despite all his attempts, nothing was different. Her smile remained the same. Her responses to his presence remained the same.

While he pushed for change, it seemed that she pushed for the familiar.

It frustrated him so much that he seriously entertained the idea of cutting off their relationship all together.

But then his mind would quickly chastise him by reminding him of all the things he would lose. It wouldn't just be another person in his life who had come and gone - he would lose a teacher, an older sister, someone he loved. When those thoughts crossed his mind, he knew he wouldn't be able to break contact with her. He would force himself to remain a resident of the comfortable zone the two of them had created.

For a time, it worked. He could delude himself effectively enough that he could pretend that he was alright with their relationship being vaguely defined.

She was a teacher; he was a pupil.

She was an older sister; he was a younger brother.

She was someone he loved...

He didn't know the second half of the last equation. The carefully constructed opposites had an empty spot that he kept waiting for her to provide the answer for. She never did.

For six years, his feeling for her festered within his chest, eating him from the inside out. Now that he was twenty, he was sure of his feelings for her - he was no longer driven by a precocious crush or the hormones of being a teenager. Now that he was an adult - in every way her equal - he could approach their relationship calmly and rationally.

She was no longer teacher; he was no longer pupil.

She was no longer an older sister; he was no longer a younger brother.

She was only someone he loved more than life itself...

Once more, the unanswered question hung heavy in the air. He had found his answer, but she had never provided hers. He felt the resilience that had upheld him for the past six years begin to break down until he couldn't take it any longer. He had to know. Something had to change or else he was going to go insane.

After the next concert, he invited her to once more visit her favorite sushi restaurant. It was a ritual that the two had stopped engaging in years ago, but when he inquired if she would be interested in going, she smiled that sickeningly familiar smile that could have been plucked directly from six years ago. Seeing that smile cemented his intentions in his mind.

Their relationship needed to move.

When the two of them arrived at the restaurant, they immediately sat down at the seats they always used to sit at. The owner came and greeted them almost instantly - although the six years definitely influenced his face, it hadn't influenced his personality. It was as if they had stepped back in time. Their gilded little fantasy was still there if they wanted to reach out and embrace it.

"Luka, I love you. Will you please go out with me?"

With those words, the dream came crashing down. There would be no more escaping into familiarity; there would be no more escaping into the inexorably powerful relationship the two of them had maintained for six years. As the two of them stared at one another, there was no blushing or awkward exchanges. Instead, he simply waited for her to answer the second half of the forever unfinished equation.

She was someone he loved...

"I'm sorry Len, I don't feel the same. I like you, I respect you, but I don't love you."

...He was someone she would never love.

The rest of the dinner was awkward attempts to backpedal into the past. However, both of them knew it was a futile effort; for the first time, he had made a move that definitively changed their relationship and there would be no taking it back. Dinner ended uncomfortably early and when the two of them ended up back at the apartment complex they both shared, there were hasty goodbyes before she headed up to her flat on the third floor.

He watched her retreating back before she disappeared around a corner, his emotions swirling within his chest.

He had told himself that it didn't matter where their relationship moved - he knew that her rejecting him was a possibility when he pushed for change.

He knew that.

He knew that.

He _knew_ that.

What he didn't know was how much it was going to hurt.

Before he even had time to rationally process that he was going to take the action, his fist slammed into the concrete wall of the building. Pain lanced through his arm, but this didn't perturb him; again and again, flesh connected with concrete. Within minutes, he felt warm blood flowing freely from his knuckles, and it was only then that he allowed himself to stop.

He was bleeding, that's why he was crying.

He was bleeding, that's why he was in pain.

He was bleeding, that's why it was alright that he was weak for a little bit.

He stood there for an untold number of minutes before he slowly made his way to his own flat. Without even bothering to turn on the lights or bandage his hand, he collapsed face-down into his bed. His tears had stopped by this point, but this fact didn't reflect the pain that howled within his chest.

He had pushed and pulled hard enough and something had changed.

There was no going back.

* * *

**A/N: **A while ago I posted this and then deleted it for a bevy of reasons that I'm not going to get into. Well now I've gotten over those issues and stumbled upon this little short story once more, so I figure if anyone still wants to read it, I might as well post it in this collection.

Also, I gotta give a shout-out to Ten-Ten who suggested some really awesome songs to world-build to. BGMs like that are exactly the kind of thing I like to listen to when I'm world-building and I've really enjoyed them!

I'm still looking for more world-building music (BGM or otherwise) so if you've got some stored away in that head of yours, please share with me!

-WARNING! BLATANT ADVERTISING!-

That contest I mentioned last chapter is still going on! Head to my profile to learn more! I welcome you all to participate! It should be oodles and oodles of fun!

-WARNING! BLATANT ADVERTISING END!-


	10. Chapter 10

Title: A Significant Spark

Character(s): Lui Hibiki, VY2 Yuuma

* * *

"Now I want you to empty your mind."

If he wasn't so mentally and physically exhausted, Lui would have laughed aloud. As usual, his traveling day had begun when Yuuma woke him just as evening was arriving. Unlike usual, they had spent the day traversing through the perilous and rough mountain paths rather than across the plains. Every muscle in Lui's body ached and he could feel the thin soles of his shoes disintegrating beneath him as the day wore on. Several times he seriously considered simply lying on the path and waiting for wild animals to come and relieve him of his pain.

Yet every time he became dangerously close to following through with his plan, Yuuma would look back and lock eyes with him. Despite himself, Lui could never tear his eyes away - how much of this sensation was caused by the force of Yuuma's personality and how much was caused by the magic burning in those eyes, Lui couldn't say.

Whatever the ratio, it wasn't until Yuuma turned around once more that Lui found himself able to think clearly. However, he also found that his morbid thoughts of defeat had fled him to be replaced with cold determination. Even though he said nothing, Yuuma's message was clear.

You've been given two options: the academy or suicide. Choosing a third choice is not allowed.

The more Yuuma exerted his powers on him, the more Lui came to realize something.

He hated Yuuma.

It didn't make any logical sense. A few weeks ago, he had been incredibly grateful to the other man; he was his savior after all. But now, every time he looked at him, nothing but dark feelings roiled within his chest. His one saving grace was that Yuuma barely spoke. The less human qualities he had, the easier it was for Lui to hate him.

That's why, when the two of them stopped to sleep through the day and Yuuma immediately began speaking, Lui's first response was to panic. If Yuuma started being human, who was there for him to hate?

Himself?

"Your education starts now."

"Education...?" Lui parroted back slowly as he fought back his mounting panic.

"The Academy is about a half-days walk away. You haven't killed yourself yet, so I'm assuming that you want to go through with your education."

Silence followed this deceleration and Lui found his hands playing with the knife Yuuma had given him. Time was up. If he wanted to escape through death, now was his last chance.

"Do you mean to say that you'll be my teacher?" Lui asked slowly as he continued to fumble with the knife.

"I should have been your teacher for the entirety of this journey. However, I promised you that I would give you a choice. If I had started teaching you The Academy's secrets and then you tried to escape, it would have fallen on me to silence you."

"So you would have killed me."

"Yes."

The silence returned once more as Lui finally managed to free the knife from its sheath. He held the blade in front of him for several seconds before he allowed his eyes to wander to Yuuma's face.

To his surprise, he found himself staring at startlingly yellow eyes.

Gone was the magically conjured pigment to hide his nature as a mage; gone was the odd tinge of magical energy; gone was any compulsion to maintain eye contact. Now, all Lui saw was a haggard man who carried a burden that no human should be forced to carry alone. In that one moment, Lui saw a vulnerable human being.

Lui saw Yuuma.

Then the moment passed and Lui quickly averted his gaze, taking only a second longer to look at the knife before hastily shoving his hand forward like a petulant child.

"Here," he said in a voice obviously fighting back the overwhelming urge to cry. He watched as Yuuma gently wrapped his hand around the knife handle. As the older man's fingertips brushed against his palm, Lui felt a sharp bolt of energy shoot through his body, causing him to instantly retract his hand.

"What did you do?" Lui asked as he cradled his hand to his chest.

"Marked you as one of The Academy's own."

"What does that even mean?"

"Look at your palm."

Reluctantly, Lui allowed his fingers to uncurl and he felt his breath rush away in shock. His palm was covered in angry red welts that formed a perfect spiral centering on his palm. As he continued to stare, the welts began to darken until they were a deep, inky black. Then, just as quickly as they had arrived, the welts began to melt back into Lui's palm and within a few moments, it was as unscarred at it had always been.

However, the odd traces of energy remained and any time Lui flexed his fingers, he felt the tingle of the electrical pulse run through him once again. Eventually he lifted his eyes from his palm to once more look at the man who sat across from him.

"...I...I don't..."

"What I just gave you enhances your innate power, but it also inexorably ties you to The Academy. The only way for you to escape now is for you to lose that hand."

"So...I've lost my chance."

"Yes, you have."

"...Then let's start my training."

* * *

The next hour was filled with speeches about the four cambia, internal and external magic, elemental associations of the cambia, and more information about magic than Lui had ever encountered before. All he found himself able to think was how forbidden this was - his entire life it had been reinforced over and over again that his magic was something to be hidden and never spoken of here was someone who was willing to give him the answers to all the questions he was never allowed to ask.

Yuuma, the one that he so desperately despised, was also the one who allowed him to be normal. It was through him that Lui was able to be just another person rather than a demon with uncontrollable powers.

His education may have bound him to The Academy, but it also broke barriers that had been erected since childhood.

The realization gave him a heady rush of jumbled emotions that only made concentrating increasingly difficult. By the time the hour of explaining was up and Yuuma stated that Lui should try to consciously access his magic for the first time, Lui was suffering from a splitting headache to accompany the overall body ache that came from his day of traveling.

Despite this, when Yuuma told him to close his eyes and think of nothing, Lui tried his best to comply. However, with his gift of sight removed, Lui simply found his mind even more prone to wandering. Every time he tried to clear away his thoughts his mind would snag on some insignificant scrap of knowledge and he would find himself suddenly expounding upon it. Nothingness was overrun by long-ago memories of his childhood, fragments of dreams, and snippets of scenery he had been exposed to on the journey to The Academy.

"I can't do this," Lui sighed in defeat as he allowed his eyes to open, "Every time I get close, my mind keeps thinking of some little thing and I can't let it go."

"Would you like for me to help?"

"You can do that?"

"Of course. As I'm sure you've noticed, I specialize in internal magic; I have the ability to manipulate your cambia to influence your thinking and mood."

"...Please," Lui said quietly as he found himself slowly nodding.

"Very well then. I want you to once more close your eyes. This time I want you to concentrate on my voice."

Fighting back an inexplicable feeling of panic, Lui once more allowed his eyes to close. To his surprise, instead of speaking, Yuuma began to hum. The sound was low and throaty with a dull tinge of power. Lui felt something stir within his chest and a moment later, it was as if a cold wave had crashed upon him, clearing away all the emotions that marked him as human. His mind was plunged into darkness.

"I have just aggravated your phlegma cambium. I want you to remember this feeling of nothingness. As you continue your training, you will need to learn to replicate it at a moment's notice."

The voice that spoke was unfamiliar to Lui, but he was instinctively drawn to it and before he had time to consciously think about it, he found himself opening his mouth to answer.

"I understand."

"Good. Now, I want you to slowly push back against the darkness I have instilled within you."

Not quite sure what to do but unwilling to let the owner of the magnetic voice be disappointed, Lui began to try recalling the emotions he had once felt; happy memories, frightening dreams, and joyous occasions were all called upon. However, the second a scrap of emotion made itself known, it was swallowed by the tidal wave of darkness.

The more Lui failed, the more he felt something kindling within his chest. It was only when he tried to recall the terror of the townspeople treating him like a demon that the memory suddenly stuck. For a moment, he could see everything so clearly - the contorted faces of people he had once trusted, the disgusted eyes of his mother, the weight of the charred body within his hands.

And the flames.

The flames.

The feeling in his chest took form and instantly his mind was overrun by fire. It burned everything, headless of good or evil, happy or sad. Lui heard a far off scream as his head began to pulse erratically, sending painful shock-waves through his body. His eyes shot open as the pain intensified and seemed to concentrate within his arm. He couldn't contain his screams of pain as he watched in horrified fascination as his entire left arms was suddenly covered in angry welts that quickly darkened to black. Everything pounded. Everything hurt.

The suddenly, the fire within his mind escaped into reality.

The entirety of his left arm was aflame and all Lui could do was stare and scream. There should have been the feeling of burning, but all he felt was the continued pulsing pain.

"Lui, calm down."

It was the voice again. This time, Lui recognized the owner of the voice as Yuuma, and as he turned to look at the older man, he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. The pain made his vision swim, but he forced himself to concentrate on the eyes of the older mage.

"Make it stop...please make it stop..."

"You're the only one who can do that now Lui," He said slowly and calmly as he maintained eye contact with his panicking pupil, "You have to be the one to master it and bring it under control."

"I can't. I can't. It's fire. I can't."

"You were born with this power; you have the ability to control it."

Tears were streaming openly down Lui's face now as he gave a desperate shake of his head. How could he make Yuuma understand? Fire was what had haunted him the entirety of his life; fire was what made the villagers lock him away; fire was what made his mother hate him.

Fire was what killed his sister.

He had no control over it.

None.

"I believe in you."

The words were short and clipped and Lui could barely hear them over the sound of his throbbing pain, but the effect it had was immediate. There was someone who believed in him. No matter how much of a monster he was, no matter how little faith he had in himself, there was someone who believed in him.

Yuuma believed in him.

It was something he hadn't experienced since the day the villagers locked him away.

Lui closed his eyes in concentration and listened to the erratic pulsing that ran through his body. To his surprise, he picked up on two distinct rhythms - one in his head and one in his left arm. Answering to an impulse he wasn't even aware was present, he slowed his breathing and began to push the rhythm within his arm to slow. The resistance he faced was unexpectedly strong. Fighting against his exhaustion and the sweat that was now beading on his brow, he kept pushing forward. Time lost all meaning as the entirety of Lui's existence was defined by the two pulses.

Then unexpectedly, the pulses matched perfectly as both throbbed slowly and dully. The overwhelming strain on Lui's body instantly subsided. Slowly his eyes opened and he found himself staring at his left arm. The black welts continued to dominate his arms, but the fire had receded to the point where it was nothing more than a gentle golden flame that flickered within his palm.

For the first time in his life, he was the one in control.

He could tell that a goofy grin dominated his face, but he found himself unable to care.

"I did it..." He stated slowly and unsurely, "I did it...I did it Yuuma!"

"You did a great job. Congratulations."

When Lui turned from the flame to look at Yuuma, he felt his eyes go wide with shock. Although it was slight, Yuuma's mouth was clearly upturned into a smile. Furthermore, his usually emotionless eyes were shining with something that Lui was immediately able to identify.

Pride.

Yuuma was proud of him.

Yuuma believed in him.

Before the full implications of these revelations could settle on him, Lui felt the pulses of energy within his head abruptly cut off. Suddenly devoid of the energy that had been sustaining him, he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud. When he tried to move, his limbs refused to comply. Realizing that movement would be impossible, he resigned himself to staring up at the puffy white clouds that dominated the sky. Unexpectedly, he felt something warm settle on the lower half of his body.

"Get some sleep now," Yuuma said as he stepped back from providing the boy with a blanket, "I'll take care of keeping watch."

Lacking even the strength to voice a response, Lui simply nodded his head and watched as Yuuma walked off. It was only when Lui lost sight of him that his thoughts returned once more to both the smile and pride that he had seen Yuuma display. They were the first emotions he had seen out of the older man and despite himself, Lui felt a distinct sense of accomplishment that he had been able to bring them about.

As he quickly succumbed to the alluring siren call of sleep, he found himself hoping that he would be able to make Yuuma proud again.

And if he was lucky, he might even be able to make him smile.

* * *

**A/N:** ...I got carried away while writing for these two again. Originally, this was just supposed to be a cute "Lui manages to control his magic for the first time and Yuuma is all proud of him!" thing, but it turned out to be way more involved than I anticipated. But look, there's a smidgen of fluff at the end! That still counts as it being cute!...Right?**  
**

Also, I've decided on a few things for this AU:

- Lui is hemophobic (this becomes important later in the story)

- Magic is based around manipulation of the four cambia (A.K.A. the four humors/humorism). There are two types of magic (internal and external). Internal magic is manipulation of another person's cambia to influence mood whereas external magic is physical manifestation of an element associated with the specific cambia.

Other than those two things, everything is still up in the air with this AU. I can probably assure you at this point that this will someday be written into a longer story.

Maybe.


End file.
